


Tsukanoma no Shunkan

by Sypharo



Series: Henka [2]
Category: K-On!, Tamako Market, 響け! ユーフォニアム | Hibike! Euphonium (Anime)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sypharo/pseuds/Sypharo
Summary: Life is a series of fleeting moments, and in youth, those moments always seem to flee much faster. Join the cast of Yamada in this series of short Slice of Life chapters, primarily centred on wholesome, romantic, or otherwise scenarios that didn’t have quite the narrative weight to be included in the mainline story, but are fun nonetheless!(Includes spoilers for Yamada Daigaku no Reyna-chan)
Relationships: Akiyama Mio/Tainaka Ritsu, Hirasawa Yui/Nakano Azusa, Kotobuki Tsumugi & Original Character(s), Kousaka Reina/Oumae Kumiko, Tokiwa Midori/Makino Kanna
Series: Henka [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971733
Kudos: 7





	1. Oumae Kumiko Needs Advice

__ The first thing Kumiko sensed as she drifted into consciousness was the cicada directly outside her dorm’s bedroom window, reminding her that summer really was here, and she had survived the first semester of her second year of college. The second thing she sensed was a strange, unfamiliar texture in the palm of her right hand. It was soft, with the feeling of a pillow, yet somehow both more firm and more malleable. Out of curiosity, she squeezed, with the twitch of a leg between hers bringing her into full consciousness. Holding back her freak out as to not wake up Reina, she slowly rescinded her hand, wondering how the hell it found its way there through the night.

As Kumiko gently slinked out from her spoonfest with her partner, the memories of the prior night trickled in. She recalled Reina’s gentle but prompt request to speed up the pace of their fledgling relationship, being sure to mention how they hadn’t even kissed since the first time. They were both new to this, and while Kumiko had some small amount of experience with Shuichi, Reina was an entirely different situation. Every time without fail, if Kumiko even imagined being intimate with Reina, even just kissing, she’d get flustered, lose all her composure, and feel a leaking sensation in her nose.

Recognising that Reina was significantly more confident in her love, and lust, for Kumiko, she always felt at a disadvantage and became unsure of herself when Reina asked. Thusly, even though the two had been officially dating for almost three months now, they hadn’t made any progress. Not even another kiss since Kumiko got bold and kissed Reina as she picked her up from the airport. She knew she wanted to make her partner happy, but hadn’t the slightest idea of how to fight these feelings of inadequacy. She needed to talk to an expert. 

The first person that popped into her head as she found her way into the living room was Reyna Marten. She shook her head, recalling that ever since the fight between Houkago Tea Time, Reyna, and Sano Kairi, Reyna had been acting more and more withdrawn, barely speaking during quartet rehearsals, if she even showed up. Deciding to let Rey have her space, she considered her options. Sano would probably be a bad wager, too, given what little history Kumiko knew about her past relationships. It’s not as if Kumiko had the confidence, or assets, to seduce someone like Sano was wont to do.

Suddenly, a light bulb appeared over the floof. She needed to talk to Sasaki Azusa.

Journeying into the pitifully small kitchen, Kumiko ran through all of the steps to make a slice of toast, while simultaneously scrolling through her contacts to find Azusa’s information. It had been a hot minute since the two had spoken, but their friendship was one of those where they could just pick up right where they left off. Even after a few years of having progressively less and less face-to-face interactions, they stayed close. Kumiko had the itching notion that Azusa might be somewhat different now, after her previous summer in America, but she shook it off. She knew that talking to the queen of high school girl-love triangles was something that needed to happen if her and Reina were to make any forward movement in their relationship.

Now crunching away at the hastily-made toast, her thumb floated over the call button. Would it be rude to call in the middle of having a really loud meal? These thoughts of day-to-day etiquette had been finding their way into Kumiko’s head ever since she realised she was officially an adult but had barely any understanding of what that meant. Did she have to act more ‘mature’ now? Whatever that meant?

Before she could decide one way or the other, she finished her light breakfast, now having no moral quandary. She promptly hit the call button, haphazardly brushing the crumbs away, knowing she’d forget to vacuum later.

Azusa, who had been spending the nights at a coworker’s house in Nagoya, felt her phone vibrating on the floor next to her. As she set down her nail polish, she carefully picked the phone up, expecting a call from her boss about the rehearsal schedule, but instead being pleasantly surprised by Kumiko’s name hovering mid-screen. She grinned to herself, swiping to answer.

_ “Speaking, speaking. Kumiko-chan! How are you? It’s been too long.” _

Kumiko let out a sigh of relief at Azusa’s recognisable tone, “Hey, Azusa-chan. I’ve been doing alright. Yamada has been treating me well, but Reina and I got caught up in some drama recently, so it’s been odd.”

_ “Reina? Getting caught up in drama? What did you do?”  _ Azusa giggled, folding her legs up and pressing her toe spacers together.

“No no no, it’s not like that,” Kumiko waved her hand, realising that the hand movement wouldn’t cross the call barrier, “We were trying to form a jazz club, but all of the people we got together had some unsavoury history, so it ended up not going too well. I like Yamada and all, but Niiyama-sensei leaving really hurt my hopes for performing.”

_ “You should just freelance. It’s what I do in between teaching shifts. Oh, that reminds me, I have a gig in Kyoto in a few weeks. Would you want to come?” _

__ “Of course! But I needed to talk to you about something…”

Azusa felt Kumiko’s voice turn, piquing her interest, “What’s wrong, Kumiko-chan?”

Leaning back on the living room couch, Kumiko organised her thoughts into a request for help, “So, I don’t know if I told you, but Reina and I started dating a few months ago, and I’m feeling—”

_ “What?! Really?! Kumiko-chan! I knew it!” _

__ The brunette separated the phone from her ear, holding back a ‘geh’ and distastefully squinting at the screen, “Knew what, exactly?”

_ “That you liked girls! I knew you’d come out eventually, but I never expected Reina to be your type. Is it her boobs? Are you a boob guy, Kumiko?”  _ Azusa mercilessly teased, missing her back-and-forth with Kumiko in middle school.

“Azusa-chan! That’s not—” she stopped to wipe her nose, “Please don’t talk about Reina like that. Anyways, I need some advice. She wants to get more intimate, but I don’t know what to do. I always get nervous, and feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

_ “Ah, I see,”  _ Azusa put her pointer finger up to her chin, her eyes darting around as she remembered her past relationships with Serina and Amika,  _ “Well, how is your day to day with Reina? It all depends on how you two usually interact on what you can do to get things going.” _

__ “Well, I usually go where she goes, and recently we’ve just been accompanying friends places, so we haven’t had much time to just ourselves.”

_ “So she wears the pants?” _

__ “She does  _ not  _ wear the pants, it’s not like that. She just usually knows what she wants to do or where we should go. I’m no good at planning this kind of stuff. Even with Shuichi I was pretty passive.”

_ “So, don’t be.” _

Kumiko lifted an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

_ “If you’re usually the follower in the relationship,”  _ Azusa lifted her hand informatively, disregarding the fact that the motion wouldn’t pass the call barrier,  _ “Take control. Use that floofy noggin of yours to plan out a date, then you kiss her. If she’s the one who’s usually deciding everything, she probably subconsciously wants you to take control sometimes. Give her what she doesn’t know she wants before you give her what she wants. It’ll make it that much sweeter.” _

__ “Yeah?” Kumiko skeptically inquired, glancing over to the bedroom door creaking open, “Alright, I’ll take a look at the documents. Thanks for giving me a call, I’ll get back to you.”

_ “Kumiko-chan, what—“ _

__ “I’m afraid I’m not available today, but I’ll see what I can do about Thursday. Thank you for the opportunity. Goodbye.”

Pulling the device from her ear, Azusa scowled down at it, wondering what the heck just happened. It didn’t take very long for her to put two and two together, snickering to herself when she did. She  _ had  _ to see Kumiko and Reina together. Just picturing it sounded too darling to witness without eye protection.

As Kumiko placed her phone in her lap, she rotated around to see a bedhead Reina stumble out into the main room. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, Reina set her eyes on her partner, wondering what kind of phone call Kumiko had to end so abruptly after she walked into the room. She squinted into the hazel eyes trained on her, with the two just silently staring each other down for a moment.

“Do you want to go somewhere today?” Kumiko inquired, apprehensively gripping the couch.

Reina cocked her head at this detail, “Do  _ you  _ want to?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll look at what we can—”

“No need,” Kumiko lifted a hand, “I’ll plan it out today.”

A smile formed on Reina’s face, along with a curious eyebrow raise, “Yeah? Okay, I’ll leave it to you.”

Once Reina had turned her attention to the kitchen, Kumiko clenched her fist in victory. Where they would go and what they would do, she hadn’t the faintest idea, but the overwhelming wave of confidence that had just crashed into her felt like it could carry her through the entire process. Today, Kumiko would make the first move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharo / The Major here,
> 
> Welcome to Tsukanoma no Shunkan, a spin-off of Yamada Daigaku no Reyna-chan, meant to hold readers over until the next chapter is published as I transfer to a biweekly schedule.
> 
> Thanks to Tekketsu08 for the idea for this first chapter, and his advisory on Sasaki Azusa as a character. I intend on including her in the main story very soon, so stay tuned for that!
> 
> On another note, this is my first time writing from a third-person perspective, or from a perspective of a non-original character, so I hope I did well. 
> 
> Thanks for keeping up with my work, and I’ll see you again in two weeks for another chapter of Tsukanoma no Shunkan.


	2. Tokiwa Midori Is Curious

“So, in short, Mido-chan and I are getting an apartment together.”

Tamako muted her excitement as much as she could as to not disturb the other patrons, but couldn’t exactly stay still after the announcement, either. Midori wondered why Kanna had saved that news for the bath house, of all places, but brushed it off as either forgetfulness or odd timing. 

The months since they had graduated seemed to scream by at such a breakneck pace that Midori had little clue what she was doing or where to go. It was a stroke of luck that the three of them had stayed so close and Kanna extended the apartment offer to her as well.

“That’s great,” Tamako expressed, hushing her cheers and struggling to not disrupt the water, “When do you two move in?”

Kanna snapped around to Midori with a grunt, not wanting to hog the spotlight, for once.

The golden blonde rubbed the nape of her neck, “We’re waiting for the previous tenants to complete their move-out, then Kanna is going to do some renovations for a few days, then we move in.”

“Renovations? Is that allowed?” Tamako tilted her head.

Kanna quickly raised her right hand, sticking up only her pointer and pinkie, “I have express permission from Chitanda-san to make any adjustments and improvements I see fit, so long as I run them by the official contractor first. Pow.”

“He must really trust your skills then. I wish I got the same gratitude from Dad.”

“You’ll get there, Tama-chan,” Kanna soothed her friend with a head pat and a teasing ruffle. Midori couldn’t help but lock onto this motion, yearning for the days she felt comfortable enough to be intimate with Tamako.

While it wouldn’t be surprising or shocking for Midori to do so, especially since she was the only one who felt weird about it anymore, the idea still seemed wrong. It was never in her plan to come between Tamako and Mochizou, but now she understood that any closeness to the former object of her desires would pull that out of her. More than anything, she wanted Tamako to be happy, even at the cost of her own happiness. The only thing she could do was force herself to move on, but nothing extended a helping hand in that pursuit.

She had expected college life to present some alternative option, but so far, nothing. While dance, twirling, and literature were decent enough hobbies, nothing she’d been studying called out to her enough to at least be a distraction. More importantly, no one called out to her, either. That was probably for the best, considering Midori had absolutely no clue where to start in terms of a relationship, boy or girl. Her popularity was a faint memory now, too, as if to rub salt in the wound. Everyone was pretty at Yamada University, which also meant no one was.

“Mido-chan,” Kanna pulled her soon-to-be roommate out of her trance, “Be more excited. Share in our revelry.”

Midori couldn’t help but snicker at the word choice, “Who says that anymore? I’m okay, I’m just…”

“Midori-chan?” Tamako grew concerned about Midori’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

The thought of worrying Tamako forced a fake smile to form, “Really, I’m okay. I’m just kinda tired today.”

Kanna’s skeptical stare tore right through the facade as Midori recalled how emotionally intelligent the seemingly airheaded carpenter really was. That realisation only made Midori falsify even harder, adding a yawn for effect. She was fine. She had to be fine. It wasn’t fair to everyone else if she wasn’t.

The explanation seemed to satisfy Tamako as she continued interrogating Kanna about the new development, with Midori’s eyes beginning to wander around the interior, desperately trying to find anything else to focus on.

As they did, her eye caught one of the other patrons exiting a bath a few tubs down from them. She had extraordinarily long raven hair, a voluptuous form that could’ve been sculpted out of marble, and a comforting look in her eyes as they followed her pale blonde compatriot, who had already donned her towel. Midori didn’t know why, but something about that girl felt equally familiar and alluring. She had to know more. Not wanting to cause a commotion, she carefully watched as the duo dried off and proceeded past the curtains back into the locker room. After a moment of patience, Midori decided that it was now or never.

She yawned once again, “I think I’m gonna head home now, you two. Sleep is trying to catch up with me.”

The two cocked their heads in unison, feeling something was off about their friend but not really knowing where to start in terms of speculation. Realising she was losing time with every second that passed, Midori continued selling her case by rubbing her eyes.

“Mido-chan, find me during your lunch period tomorrow,” Kanna directed, “Get home safe, former captain.”

Tamako unsurely followed Kanna’s lead, “Yeah, I’ll see you around. Get home safe.”

“I will. See you two later,” Midori nodded, promptly evacuating the tub and fighting the urge to rush her way towards her towel and out to the lockers.

Despite her attempt to keep suspicion low, she made incredible time, reaching the lockers and locating the black-haired girl, extracting clothes from the locker next to her own. Playing it cool, she sent her eyes away and strolled calmly over.

“So, Mugi,” the girl sheepishly questioned her friend, “You went to see Yui the other day, right? How was she?”

The pale blonde replied as she wrung out her hair into her towel, “She was good. She’s doing better and better recently, Azusa-chan has been doing her best to make sure that continues. Oddly enough, us receding from the news has been helping her mood.”

“I guess everything has a silver lining.”

“Unfortunately.”

The two caught on to Midori’s proximity, causing a momentary lull in their conversation as the golden blonde feigned uninterest in her pursuit to redress. They let their guard down, continuing on.

“You should come with me next time, Mio-chan,” the pale blonde requested, pulling on her skirt.

Mio-chan. Mio. That name sounded really familiar, but Midori couldn’t pin down why for the life of her.

Mio sighed with a tinge of sadness, “I don’t know about that. I was pretty rough on her when she decided to leave. I feel like I should give her more time.”

“It’s already been two months, though. Maybe it would be a good first step.”

“Not this again.”

Mio frustratedly flicked her immense mane out into the open area behind her, with Midori unable to keep her eyes away from the motion. The allure of long, raven hair had been something Midori had noticed in herself recently as she explored the nature of her attraction to Tamako, and by proxy, women in general. Something about black hair always caught her eye before anything else.

“Mio-chan, please,” the blonde implored, “Don’t you want to at least try?”

“If you’re including Ritsu in this plan, I can’t do it. Not for a while, anyways,” Mio shot her friend down, pulling her shirt over herself and starting out towards the exit.

The pale blonde froze in place, listlessly staring to the floor. While Midori felt somewhat guilty about the idea that she considered this opportunity, she pressed on, quickly throwing on the remainder of her clothes and scurrying out of the bath house, not wanting to lose this Mio character before she could get some answers for this unusual attraction.

As she burst out into the evening atmosphere of the market, she frantically surveyed her surroundings, catching the stream of flowing sable hair escaping down towards the entrance. An irrational boldness took over as Midori marched down the same way, resisting the urge to call out until she couldn’t fight it anymore.

“E-excuse me!”

The girl flicked around, her stare of confusion settling on a flustered Midori, staring right back. Likely feeling unsettled but curious, she wandered back over, stopping a few meters before.

“Um… yes?”

Realising she hadn’t thought any of this through, Midori began to blurt out whatever came to mind, “I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re very pretty. Do you live around here, or go to school here? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Uncertain of which of those to answer first, Mio’s brow twitched as she replied, “You look familiar, too. Aren’t you in the literature program at Yamada?”

That must be where the familiarity came from. Midori sighed contentedly, taking solace in the first of her answers.

“I am,” she smiled with a bow, “Tokiwa Midori.”

Feeling pulled into this random interaction, Mio humoured the introduction, “Akiyama Mio. I was just about to get some food before I went home. Are you hungry?”

Midori decided that whatever sensation was taking root in her stomach may as well have been hunger, “I could eat.”

They shared a smile before Mio flipped around, beckoning Midori to follow suit.


	3. Reyna Marten Wakes Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharo / The Major here,
> 
> So a bit of a preface before this chapter:
> 
> I’ve been having a weird past few days. In a usual week, I plan out the next Shunkan chapter from Sunday to Tuesday, then binge-write on Wednesday with enough time to publish that night. However, because of the circumstances, I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do for this week’s chapter.
> 
> Rather than go back on my personal promise and not publish a chapter this week, I’ve decided to pull out an oldie. The following excerpt is the very first time I wrote about Reyna and the cast of Exit Music, back in a depressive spell while I was still in college. 
> 
> This was supposed to be the first scene in an original novel entitled Exit Music, but I’ve since decided to wait to write that story later on in life, after I’ve become a fully confident writer.
> 
> Anyways, that’s where we’re at. The rough estimation for when this particular scene takes place in the current timeline would be just a year before the events of Yamada. Please enjoy my underdeveloped, late 2019 writing style, and the birth of our protagonist!

I shot awake with a violent stabbing sensation coursing through the whole of my cranium. As my bloodshot eyes scanned the interior, I suddenly recalled where I was and what I was doing. Bottles and cans littered the entirety of the room, with sleeping bodies strewn about, with seemingly no care for where they found themselves. They hung from various surfaces, splayed out across the floor, and plopped on the furniture. 

I grabbed my head, my fingers tensing as I struggled to extract the pain from my mind, to no avail. The rhythms of  _ Doctor Worm _ danced around my head as I recollected our impromptu karaoke session being among the last things I remember from last night.

As I tried to rise from the futon, I felt the weight of a head on my bare stomach holding me down. My eyes meandered their way down to the location of the anchor to see the mangled mane of Alex, who herself looked probably just as worse for wear as I did. I sighed and groaned simultaneously as gently lifted her head and slipped out from her usage of me as a pillow. As I set her head down, I stumbled my way to my feet, finding difficulty in staying upright through the headache, but decided to continue the challenge by finding my jacket, boots, and hat. 

I looked around the room in the search for my hat, seeing its signature white shine sat atop the head of Tristan, though “atop” his head was a generous description, as it more resembled a face-shield held in place by his thick, curly locks.

I traipsed my way over, cautious to not accidentally or purposefully step on any innocent bystanders to my daring quest. After a gallant journey across the apartment living room, I plucked my hat from Tristan’s face and threw it snugly over my head, hand-combing my hair down to flow correctly down and out. 

Next, my jacket, which was respectfully hung on the rack with all of its cousins. I quietly groaned as I made my way back across the corridor and to the rack of too many jackets, turning the black and white letterman-style ones on their hooks to find the one that read “Reyna Marten.” After finding it, I freed it from the gallows and shoved my arms through the sleeves, pulling my watch through as well.

Finally, I scooted over to the pile of shoes and picked my boots out, sliding them over my lovely dog butt socks, and haphazardly sending the laces together in a knot I knew wouldn’t last. With all of my gear equipped, I carefully creaked the entry door open, shimmied my way out, then creaked it back sealed. 

I sighed at acceptable volume, then buried my hands into my jacket pockets as I tiptoed down the stairs, leaning on the wall to not lose my balance. I really should have grabbed some water before I left the room, but knowing us, no water bottle in the apartment could be trusted at the moment. I found myself stepping out of the staircase and into the shining autumn sun and biting autumn chill.

I then began to march my way to my motorcycle, leaning lazily on its kickstand. I was still way too pleased that Pops let me skip a car and go straight to a motorcycle, though I equally felt guilty for stripping him of his paycheck until his next contract. Regardless of my emotions, I reached into the trunk box and liberated my bright purple tote that I had somehow kept in decent condition since freshman year of high school. Sifting aggressively, I dug out my hemp smokes and admittedly too-fancy-for-me chrome lighter. Having recovered the buried treasure, I tossed the tote back in the trunk and latched it, making my way back to the apartment balcony. As I trudged my way back up the stairs, Alex came into view, herself leaning against the balcony and trying desperately to pull her curtain of brunette hair into a serviceable ponytail.

“On your six, Vista,” I called to her, causing her to nearly jump out of her oversized hoodie.

“Jesus Christ, Reyna,” she barked back through a hair tie between her teeth, “You know you can’t sneak up on me after a night of that many Russian ‘99s.”

I lightly giggled at her use of our joke name for our favourite mixed drink, then slumped next to her, leaving all of my weight on the top bar of the balcony, then extracting a cigarette from my jacket pocket. She finally managed to complete her unending quest to partially tame her hair, then motioned to have a dart. I rolled my eyes at her, then pulled another from my pocket and placed it in her extended hand. We then proceeded to light up, drag, and look out into the fields past the apartment complex.

“We made out again last night, didn’t we,” I asked her, glancing with a smirk. She quickly became flustered at my question.

“Fuck, did we?”

“Yeah, I can still taste your cheap lipstick.”

She playfully shoved me, which earned a chuckle from me and a retort from her, “Jay got me it for my birthday, be nice.”

“And you didn’t ask for the receipt?”

She scoffed, attempting to wipe what remained from her dried lips. “When? Was it during that match of Spicy Uno?”

“Could’ve been during Cards Versus Mankind, too,” I snarked.

“Either way, it’s no fair,” she continued, “Y’all know I get gay when I get drunk.”

“We were all drunk too,” I replied, turning around to rest my back on the bars, “It’s not like I go into every card game when I’m sloshed with the goal of making out with you.”

“You promise?” She extended her left pinkie. I returned the favour and we swore. “Because it was starting to feel like you might have been.” 

I threw a face of disappointment her way, which finally got her to laugh.

“If I want to lock lips with a girl, I don’t have to get you drunk to do so,” I began to defend myself, “We both know that I could text HP literally any time of day for that, and more—”

“—Which is not good for you, or her, and we both know that too. How long are you gonna keep her and Erin on the hook?”

“Mcfuckin’-xcuse me, I have  _ nobody _ ‘on the hook’,  _ especially  _ Erin, and you know it’s way more complicated than that. We have clearly set boundaries now,” I clarified, using finger quotes to emphasise.

“Perhaps,” she came back, “But you know how that went with Gabi. She hasn’t spoken to either of us since Seaside, despite us being stuck together all summer.”

I inhaled to attempt to defend myself again, but resigned, “Oh fuck, alright, but Gabi was a unique circumstance.” She looked at me with her right brow furrowed and her left brow raised, and I sighed heavily, “What am I to do.”

“You know what you’re gonna do, you’ll avoid it until it happens again.”

“You’re right, not a thing anyone can do about that,” I stayed irreverent. 

She scoffed at me again, less playfully this time. I knew that she was probably right, but it was just so misfortunate that I couldn’t just fuck someone without them wanting to put a ring on me. I couldn’t catch a break. 

Lightly frustrated, I pulled the last of the cigarette, then stamped it out, “Do you want a ride home?”

“Yeah,” she promptly replied, raising herself from her slouched posture, “Just let me get my stuff.” She slinked back into the apartment, and I was once again left alone with my thoughts.

If I could get around my hang-up against being in a relationship, I’d probably be better off. Perhaps it’s rooted in a desire to follow Pops’ example? He never married, took Sara and I in instead, and he seems happy enough with just the three of us. On the same coin, I always just figured that I’d find someone eventually that filled all of the prerequisites to “unlock my heart”, but the older I got, the more I felt like that notion was just a crock of shit that I’ve been telling myself to feel better about having never been in a labelled romantic relationship. 

If I was honest with myself, there was a time when I thought Alex would’ve been that person, but she was decidedly against the idea of herself liking girls, at least when she’s sober, anyways. There was also a time when I thought Liv could’ve been that key, but… 

Thinking of the Devil seemed just as potent as speaking of them, as Alex returned from the threshold with her faux-vintage backpack in tow and a pair of leggings on underneath the signature baggy denim shorts she wore to accentuate her stilt-like legs. I peered at her through my scrambled bangs, then left the balcony behind.

“To dorms or the Vista residence?” I asked as I led her down the steps.

“Dorms,” she relayed, equipping her backpack and resting her hands in her hoodie’s forward pocket, “If I came home looking like this, there’d be questions.”

I nodded, recalling the tempest that was Mrs. Vista when I brought her home freshly marinated. In spite of how often he was absent, I was thankful that Pops was really loose on his rules for Sara and I. 

We made our way across the desolate parking lot, both struggling to keep our balance through our hangovers. I wasn’t entirely sure if I could make the fuckin’ journey that was the drive from Rasgado to my house on the bike, but it didn’t feel like I had another option, so I made a pact with myself to boonk a water from Alex’s dorm when I dropped her off. As my mental handshake concluded, we arrived at my motorcycle.

“Do you have any water in the trunk?” Alex nearly begged.

“I fuckin’  _ wish _ ,” I promptly responded, feeling underprepared. 

She let out a despondent sigh as she tightened her backpack straps, preparing for the ride. I threw the trunk open to reveal my dual helmets and my overly-designer leather jacket. As I clasped the jacket, my gaze bounced between my corps jacket and Alex’s cotton hoodie. Then, I raised the coat out of the trunk and extended it towards her, to which she put up her hand and shook her head.

“I’m not letting you on with just the hoodie on,” I stated dryly. Rule number two of motorcycle safety was to always wear either a leather or sufficiently heavy jacket, seconded only by the golden fuckin’ rule of always wearing a helmet.

She quickly glanced away and her face flushed, her lips scrunching before they flapped, “I lost my bralette last night and this is all I’m wearing.”

I wasn’t sure whether to scoff, laugh, or scold, so I did all three in rapid succession, “How did you— was it the really expensive one you got in San Antonio?” She nodded shamefully, then I continued, “It’ll turn up, but my ultimatum stands.”

She exasperatedly sighed once more, accepting the jacket, then spoke, “Turn around.”

My brows furrowed, “I have tits too, and it’s not like I haven’t seen yours before, either.”

“Counterpoint: you like tits, and I’m feeling rather vulnerable since you took advantage of me last night.” I groaned in both disappointment and acknowledgement, begrudgingly spinning around to give her privacy.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” she stammered as the hoodie made contact with the inside of the trunk. Confused by her statement, I shimmied my jacket off my shoulders to feel the air on my skin. It wasn’t that cold. After I heard the zipper, I turned back around to see the leathers dwarfing her.

“I forget how small you are sometimes,” I giggled, “I’m not even that big either, you’re just puny.”

“I didn’t ask to be a toothpick. Let’s get out of here.” She threw one of the helmets over her head, then got ready to get on the bike. I took the other helmet, dunking my baseball cap in the trunk, and pushing it over my head. I shifted it around, then pushed the visor down over my eyes. We then mounted up, with Alex latching the trunk and wrapping her arms around me just underneath my breasts. 

I quivered a little bit at the touch, being reminded that I hadn’t had a hookup in enough weeks to be weak to touch. I shook out the shiver and plugged my key into the motorcycle. I then pulled the clutch, hit the button, and we set off to Rasgado College.


	4. Sasaki Azusa Goes Home

__ Azusa had too much on her mind.

As she trekked across the Indianapolis Concourse B desperately trying to figure out which gate was hers, she thought about all of her home-life difficulties she’d be returning to. Her season with the Blue Angels had been so jam-packed that she barely had a moment to think about anything but her job on the field and how to improve. From the struggles of switching from trombone to euphonium, to dropping all of the show-band habits she’d ingrained in three years of high school marching, her mind was constantly buzzing. But now, instead of the blank bliss she’d been awaiting, she only thought of how much harder real life was about to be.

Adulting was a nightmare, and her difficulties in school just added to it all. She wasn’t looking forward to readopting independence.

She sighed out the negative vibes as she finally came across her gate and spied a Coleman water jug set down on one of the benches, a dead giveaway for a fellow drum corps kid. Next to the jug sat a silver-haired, fellow Japanese girl in a black-and-white letterman-style corps, clutching her backpack and staring down into her phone screen. Azusa identified with her exhausted eyes, recalling how miserable it was trying to get to sleep between Finals last night and the international flights starting this morning. Examining the girl further, Azusa spied the signature triangular charm necklace of the Outriders, a corps much lower competitively than hers, but one she remembered Yuri incessantly talking about.

Azusa then pondered the etiquette for approaching her and trying to start up a conversation. Would it be rude to assume that they should talk just based on them both being Japanese girls in American drum corps? Surely she should just keep to herself and not bother the mysterious Outrider. Accepting that conclusion, she stuffed her hands into her corps jacket’s pockets and marched past, finding a seat on a bench further down and sinking into it.

It really was over, wasn’t it? Her first time leaving the country, living like a soldier and nearly winning the world’s most prestigious marching activity on an instrument she’d barely ever touched before a few months ago. While she mourned the close of a life-changing experience, she couldn’t wait to find Kumiko and outplay her on euphonium as soon as possible. When things had gone so south since her senior year, she often looked to her earlier past for solace.

The thoughts of Serina and Amika relentlessly crossed her mind, though. It had been almost two years since they officially broke things off, but her struggles following that event kept them on her mind. Did they miss her while she was away? Did they even think of her?

Azusa then elected to get back into the dating game as soon as she got home. There had to be at least one other girl to capture her heart, if not another two. As much as she wanted to stay humble, she couldn’t help but get greedy.

Suddenly, she was ripped out of her daydreams by the sound of someone plopping down in the seat directly next to her. Snapping upwards to find the source of the disturbance, she locked eyes with the silver-haired Outrider. Taken aback, she simply stared at the grinning face with no words.

“I am not excited for this flight. Nineteen hours, right? I dunno about you, but my flight here was miserable, too, so it’s hard to be optimistic,” the girl laughed, leaning back and awaiting a response.

“Oh, uh,” Azusa let out another sigh, feeling comforted by hearing fluent Japanese for the first time in months, “Mine wasn’t so bad. Osaka to San Francisco is pretty short in comparison to this.”

The Outrider smirked, “Yeah, I bet California was nice for Spring Training too, huh? Oh, Sano Kairi, nice to meet you.”

“Sasaki Azusa, nice to meet you as well. Outriders are based in Texas, right? It was so hot there.”

“And our Spring Training housing site was hotter than you can imagine. Think of an onsen, but in the air, all the time.”

“Jeez, that sounds rough.”

“Made us better, though,” Kairi remarked as she extracted a water bottle from her carry-on, “Just thinking about it makes me thirsty.”

The black-haired Blue Angel chuckled at the thought, thinking about how the only perks to all the heat were the incredible tans they’d both received. Through thinking about tans, Azusa’s eyes unconsciously wandered down to Kairi’s visible tanlines on her exposed cleavage. They remained there until Kairi noticed, queuing Azusa to avert her eyes and change to a light shade of red.

Kairi, who had just finished navigating a very difficult love triangle over the summer, stored that detail away for later and continued her careful pursuit, “So, where are you from? Kansai?”

“Yeah, Uji. How’d you guess?”

“Your accent. No offense, but everyone from Kyoto sounds so hoity-toity to me.”

“Oh?” Azusa giggled, not entirely sure what was going on but thankful for the distraction, “So where are you from, then? I’m no good with accents so I could never guess.”

“Give it a shot. I’ll give you hints if you need them,” Kairi leaned in, resting her chin in her hand with intrigue.

Azusa inflated her cheeks in contemplation, with her leg unconsciously tapping and Kairi training her gaze on the motion, “Well, you seem to have a distaste for Kansai, so, Chubu?”

“Wrong.”

“Further?”

“Further.”

“Kyushu?”

“That’s just rude.”

“Kanto?”

“There you go,” Kairi nodded, realising their close proximity after Azusa had leaned in, “Specifically, Hikarizaka, though I live in Usagiyama now.”

“Why Usagiyama, if you’re so dismissive of Kansai?” Azusa inquired, still unaware of their nearness.

Kairi crossed her arms, setting them on the armrest between them, “Had to get away from home. I dunno, had some decent opportunities in the old capital.”

The Outrider’s repositioning caught Azusa’s attention, bringing her gaze back down before she glanced right back up and finally realised how close Kairi had gotten. Mulling it over in her head, Azusa wondered if she had to wait to get home to get back into the game after all. She’d grown rusty at recognising advances, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that Kairi’s familiarity had an ulterior motive.

“I get it. The getting away from home part, at least,” Azusa relayed, “I tried going to a music school away from home before I decided to audition for Blue Angels, so I understand at least that much.”

“Tried? What are you doing now?” Kairi asked as she began seeing the chess-pieces forming in her head.

“I don’t really know, maybe I’ll try again, but right now I feel kind of purposeless. I’ve just gotta find something to attach to, I guess. Doing freelance gigs now and then is fun, though.”

“No way, you freelance too? Surprised we haven’t ran into each other sooner, then.”

“Who knows? We might have,” Asuza felt herself growing cocky, “Though I’d be offended if you didn’t recognise me, were that the case.”

Kairi felt the shift and played into it, “Right back at you, though if where you’ve been looking right now is any clue, you probably wouldn’t have been looking at my face.”

“Your face has its own appeal, but you’re probably right.”

Neither of them expected themselves to raise each other as much as they had been, but they both had no desire to back down. If there was something to be gained from this transaction, they both wanted to know what it was.

_ “Boarding for United Airlines Flight 3745 to San Francisco onto Osaka, now boarding A Group.” _

__ Azusa and Kairi both rose to their feet at the intercom’s prompting, coming to the understanding that this exchange would continue on the plane. Neither of their minds wandered now. Clear of any stress or apprehension for returning home, they now only thought of uncovering the truth of the other’s magnetism. Wordlessly, they gathered their carry-ons and proceeded towards the line together, paying the other patrons no mind and attaching at the hip. 

Deep down, Kairi could detect some subconscious guilt for hopping between so many romantic ventures in just the past year, but stomped it down in order to keep her focus on Azusa. Likewise but distinct, Azusa pushed all of her reservations for trying again with Serina or Amika away and planned out how to determine if Kairi was a good move or not.

As they presented their tickets and journeyed onto the plane, they ignored any clues of assigned seating and found two relatively isolated seats and nestled in. Not even a second after getting buckled in, Kairi fished a blanket out from her backpack, glancing to Azusa as she flicked it outwards and prepared to don it.

“You think you’re gonna be that cold?” Azusa questioned, prying for the truth behind the blanket.

“You think  _ you’ll _ get cold?” Kairi smirked, “I might be willing to share it.”

Azusa returned the smirk as she reached for the near end of the blanket and pulled it over herself. Not wanting to overextend it, Kairi scooted in and covered herself with the other end. They flinched at the sudden touch of their exposed thighs against each other, but quickly acquiesced, even connecting their shoulders. It was the most contact Azusa had gotten in a long time, sending shivers down the length of her body and heating her cheeks past boiling. 

Kairi saw her checkmate on the horizon, deciding to move in for it by resting her weary head on the Blue Angel’s shoulder. Rather than protesting the advance of someone who was a stranger not five minutes ago, Azusa accepted the affection by resting her chin atop the silver mane and closing her eyes. Their collective fatigue soon compiled, with both parties feeling satisfied enough to find sleep relatively quickly. The reservations remained, but ultimately lost out on the pure opportunistic desires of both girls.

Azusa was depressingly lonely, and Kairi felt wholly cast aside. At least in this moment, they were perfect for one another.


	5. Reyna Marten Gets A Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharo / The Major here,
> 
> Yup, it’s another “I didn’t have time to write a chapter” week, so here’s the second and last (unfinished) scene I wrote for Exit Music early this year before I gave up.
> 
> Good news is I have clear plans for the next four chapters of Shunkan, and I might be able to publish an extra chapter sometime later this week! I also have a clear idea for the extra project I mentioned at the end of Chapter 19 of Yamada. Keep an eye out for “The Myth of Holo Hall” before New Years if you’re in the ‘rabbit hole’ like me.
> 
> Anywho, apologies for my late 2019 writing style, but enjoy!

The sun had just barely begun to peak out from above the cloud coverage when I pulled in to the parking lot for Housing Building Eleven. I then masterfully pulled into the space right next to the corner, a lucky omen that it was open on a Sunday morning as everyone was returning to campus. We then dismounted, Alex getting off first and loosening her backpack back down and pulling off her mask with a struggle. I chuckled at her display, pulling my helmet off with ease. We then proceeded to extract all of our shit from the trunk and rest the helmets back in. I stopped to pull my hair through my hat and into a messy bun, as she returned to her eternal war against her own hair, finger-combing it out with a series of groans and gags at the combination of sweat from the helmet and grease from sleeping at Tristan’s apartment.

“Sometimes I wish you were normal and had a car,” she began kvetching, “I remember having to do my makeup at concerts after getting there ‘cos I was afraid of it smudging and melting in the helmets.”

“I wouldn’t know about any of that,” I remarked, bragging about my complete inability to apply any makeup other than eyeliner sharp enough to impale God.

She scoffed, “I’d make a joke about how ridiculously tomboyish you are, but it’s fair enough all things considered.”

I then scrunched my left cheek, “Eh, if that were the case, Sara wouldn’t be able to do her makeup either.”

“Where would we be without Sara’s ten dollar prom faces?”

We both laughed at the memory of the disaster that was our high school prom. It was almost terrifying to think that we’d graduated from high school nearly three years ago, but I did my best to not let it send me into an existential crisis about the duality of the speed of time passing. I noticed Alex noticing me noticing my loss into deep thought, so I shook it out and stepped from the road to the sidewalk. She bravely led as we made the harrowing trek past the mountains and valleys of grackle droppings that somehow reappeared each weekend in spite of the groundskeeper’s best efforts. Had to be a terrible job, synonymous to Sisyphus’s unending struggle against the boulder and the hill. It made a gal wonder what mortal sin a groundskeeper in Kapareno would have had to commit to be punished so.

We reached the stairs, which Alex was visually intimidated by in her grievously hungover and dehydrated state. I set a comforting hand on her back.

“Reyna,”

“Yeah, boss?”

“What the fuck are you doing,” she swivelled around like an owl with a scowl.

“You looked worried,” I purred, “Just letting you know I’m here for you.”

She expelled a noise equivalent to muttering curses at a lacklustre pun and traipsed up the steep steps, while I errantly supported her as we scaled Mount Erasmus D. Keyes Housing Complex. After a few moments of fearing for our lives, we found ourselves at the threshold to her dorm room. She then dug through her backpack for a lengthy moment, retrieving her keys from what had to have been a pile of spare shorts, loose change, and tampons. She inserted the key, then rotated it every which way before finding the g-spot that would unlock the decades-old door. It swung open, revealing the living room, with Allison and Mia sitting in the dark, aloof amongst the couches, with attention split between various screens.

“Y’all are back early,” Mia spoke, shielding her eyes from the oppressive sunlight from which we emerged. Alex took notice and ushered me into the dorm, closing the door behind us.

“What about you? When did you leave Tristan’s?” Alex asked, plonking her backpack next to the couch and stretching out in nearly every direction possible.

“I had to drive Autumn home early, and when I was on my way back to the apartment, I got lazy and came back here.”

Alex rested her hands on either side of her waist and sent her right hip out at the explanation, to which Mia shrugged irreverently. Alex then started off towards her room, “Please tell me we have some water left.”

“Yeah, just bought a new package.”

Alex and I let out an synchronous “Thank God” at the statement, with her passing into her room on the hunt for the precious nectar, and me plopping on the couch, resting my head on Mia’s pillow-like lap

“Did she have sex with anyone?” Mia asked me as she patted my head.

“Not sure,” I confided, “She lost her bralette, so maybe. We made out during Cards Versus Mankind, though.”

“The lacy blue one?!” Mia yelled through the door to Alex.

“What the fuck— yeah, the lacy blue one!” she called back.

“She let me wear that one to a date once. I forgot it wasn’t mine and totally spilt some cum on it,” she confided back to me.

I couldn’t help but bust a gut at the wording, “Spilt? Not sure I want to know.”

“It was when I hooked up with Jose—“

“—Correction: I’m  _ sure _ I don’t want to know.”

“What do you have against Jose?”

“Oh, nothing, except that time he tried to proposition Liv and me into a threesome with him last semester,” I scowled into the aether, wishing I couldn’t remember every detail of the event and the following shitstorm.

“That sounds kinda hot, though.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was disrespectful and presumptuous.” I shrunk into my shoulders, forcing the thought out of my mind. Alex then appeared from around the corner, wearing a camisole under my leather jacket, now unzipped, then chunked a water bottle at me from the doorway. “Vista, what did I say about turbo-chunks when I’m hung over,” I growled

“Turbo-chunks?” Allison inquired, looking up from her laptop.

“It’s what we called throwing things on the bus instead of passing them from person to person on tour,” I explained, shifting upwards to sit upright and drink the water.

“It’s an Outriders thing,” Alex said as she practically fell onto the other couch next to Allison, resting her feet on the sad coffee table. I frat-snapped in response to her statement, then released my phone from its denim prison for the first time that morning. I had an array of notifications, from Chirper, Minutegram, and Tapchat. The first two were just too many people expressing gratitude for public pictures of me having thick thighs, but the third was messages from Erin, expected, and Carson, unexpected. I elected to check Carson’s message first.

_ Call me when you can. We need to talk about Olivia _

__ I had several snap reactions to those words. When was the last time I saw Liv, since when did Carson care about her, why did he have to talk to me about her, and why did this not come up at the party last night? I wasn’t sure how to channel my series of queries until one concise message, so I looked to Mia.

“Mia, help,” I muttered, catching her attention with an upturn of her chin and a shift of her eyes from the television playing  _ Listowel _ , our crew’s favourite sitcom, to my phone screen with the cryptic message still centremass. I saw her brow furrow in the corner of my eye, a sentiment to which I silently agreed.

“Since when did Carson ever so much as bat an eye at Olivia?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” I relayed, “What should I say?”

“Well,” she started, “Slow down. Why would he contact you if he noticed something up with Olivia?”

“Probably ‘cos we’ve been on and off for the past three years—“

“—But why specifically you? He knows you have that history, so it could be something either only you know about or you could get to her about?” 

I mulled it over in my head. Whatever it was, I still wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. On one hand, as much as I wanted to believe I didn’t, I still deeply cared for Liv and if anyone, especially Carson, thought she needed my help; I wanted to be there for her. On the other hand, I had gotten over her drama this summer. Things just got so unnecessarily mind-boggling between her, Erin, Gabi, Sano, and myself, and I couldn’t help but stick most of that on her. Either way, the least I could do was hear him out.

_ I’ll call you in 10 mins _

I locked my phone and swallowed the rock that had formed in the back of my throat. That message had turned my general well-being into a state of anxiety. I couldn’t stop thinking about Olivia, and how dumb I’ve been to just let her disappear since tour. Whether or not we were together, fighting, or trying to make friendship work, I’ve always at least checked up on her, but we haven’t had more than a two-sentence conversation since our last argument on Finals night. I felt myself trembling at all of the possibilities that could have inspired her to go so quiet that Carson noticed that something was up, but it made me feel guilty that I either hadn’t noticed anything, or was wilfully ignorant. A notification in response lit up my screen. I eagerly swiped it open.

_ Okay. Sorry for the short notice, but I’m worried about her. _

__ I locked my phone again, nearly slapping it down onto my lap and throwing my head back onto the top of the couch.

“I need a smoke,” I sighed as I rose from the cushioned prison. I felt several worried looks bearing down on me from all corners of the living room as I marched through the impossible door. I leaned on the bars of the balcony once more, scanned the area for any of the Residence golf cart patrols, then removed another hemp cigarette from my jacket pocket and lit up. I felt the concern in my chest spreading like cancer, manifesting in pools along my eyes. I really fucking hoped I was overreacting, but I rarely was when it came to Olivia Hago. I’ve known her for too long to not be horrified when she did anything that I couldn’t immediately understand or at least understand her reasoning. I sighed it out, wiping the tears from my eyes before they had a chance to escape.

When my eyesight returned, I noticed Erin and Luna exiting the latter’s car beneath me. As they scoured the backseat and trunk in search of bags and backpacks, I pulled out my phone again and pretended like I hadn’t noticed them. As I swiped through my contacts looking for Carson’s number, I felt them looking at me. Before they had a chance to call out to me, I clicked his number and put my phone to my good ear. After a moment of ringing tones, his voice began.

_ “Hey, Reyna.” _ He sounded exasperated, letting me know that this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“How are you now?” I tried to dispel the tensity with a quote from  _ Listowel _ .

_ “Not great, I’m worried, but I’m sure you figured that out.” _

Bitch, fucked up the quote. I frowned to myself before responding, “Yeah, never expected to be so shaken up by a ‘we need to talk’ message from you.”

_ “Yeah. Do you know what’s been wrong with Olivia?” _

“Honestly, we haven’t spoken since our fight on Finals night.”

_ “That’s what I was hoping you wouldn’t say. I found her ugly-crying in one of the practice rooms on Friday, and even I know that she hates when people see her cry, but instead of screaming at me, she just hugged me.” _

Yeah, this is definitely not going to end with me buying her a box of chocolates and a bouquet and everything being fine.

“Did she say anything to you?”

_ “I just held her until she calmed down, then she asked me to not tell anyone and walked off.” _

“Making moves on my girl, Carson?”

_ “Reyna, _ ” his voice became stern, _ “This isn’t a joking matter. I’m seriously fucking worried.” _

“You’re right,” I shifted uncomfortably, electing to sit down on the balcony, sending my legs through the bars, “You know me, my coping mechanism is jokes.”

_ “So what do we do? Should we tell Wells? Call her family?” _

“Wells is the last person that needs to know about this,” I paused to consider the latter option, “She’s not on good terms with her family, but if they knew she was acting like this, they might try to help anyways.”

_ “I didn’t know she wasn’t good with her family,” _ Carson lamented.

“You know the story, southern Christian family with a bisexual daughter.”

_ “Either way, you two need to figure out your beef, ‘cos you’re probably the only one she’ll open up to.” _

“Why not Erin? They marched together.”

_ “I don’t think either of us would trust Erin with this right now, especially considering y’all’s weird fuck triangle could be part of this.” _

I nearly choked on my cigarette, wanting to cuss him out for that last statement, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good time to get into a debate I probably couldn’t win.

“Fine,” I sighed, seeing that Erin and Luna were coming up the steps, rather quickly for Luna having been at the party last night as well. I stopped myself from getting distracted and redirected my attention to the phone call, “I’ll stop her tomorrow, see if I can talk to her.”

_ “Please do,” _ Carson said with relief,  _ “I don’t like this, and I hope you can help her.” _

“I’ll try,” I expressed, “Talk to you later, Carson.”

_ “Later, Reyna.”  _ The line ended, and I took my phone away from my ear. The two guard girls had reached me, and Rebecca extended an offer to help me up. I took her hand, braced myself, then freed my legs to stand at their level.


End file.
